


Set Me Ablaze.

by psyleedee



Series: Knight!Dean/Prince!Castiel Verse. [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Castiel (Supernatural), Coming Untouched, Consensual Underage Sex, Doggy Style, First Kiss, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff and Smut, Forbidden Love, Gay Sex, Gentle Sex, Hand Jobs, Innocent Castiel (Supernatural), Kissing, Knight Dean Winchester, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Needy Castiel (Supernatural), Oral Sex, Orgasm, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Prequel, Prince Castiel (Supernatural), Rough Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Spit As Lube, Top Dean Winchester, Twink Castiel (Supernatural), Virgin Castiel (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:33:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27696326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psyleedee/pseuds/psyleedee
Summary: A pretty pink blush spreads across Castiel's face, and Dean finds himself smiling at the sight of that."You're beautiful, prince.""And you're a pervert," Castiel says tenderly, as he spreads his legs open wide, and presses the back of his hand into his mouth to cover his face. Dean's eyes however, remain transfixed to the sight under him. Slowly, he slides his rough, calloused hands up the prince's smooth, young skin, and crawls over the bed until he's hovering above the prince.(Prince Castiel and Knight Dean's first time being intimate.)
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Knight!Dean/Prince!Castiel Verse. [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1706671
Comments: 18
Kudos: 156





	Set Me Ablaze.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mishLisha](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mishLisha/gifts).



> Warning: Dean is 19 years old, Castiel is 17 years old. Sex is consensual.

Dean lingers outside his highness, Prince Castiel's chamber for a few seconds. He's unsure of himself, still in conflicted minds about whether he should be here or not. Surely, the guards he passed don't doubt him at all, they know the bond shared between Dean and Castiel is special; moreso than any knight and Royal blood ever have. Since their adolescence, the two boys have grown together, fought with each other, laughed with each other and cried with each other. Nothing separates them.

Now, however, their relationship is different.

Now it's about the touches— the stares, the grins, the blushing, the whispers— some odd sort of feeling has grown between them, one which neither young men intend to vocalise, and yet, hovers over their heads— a double-ended sword.

With a sigh, Dean composes himself, and knocks against the large, ebony door. A few seconds pass, allowing him to steady himself. _You can do this,_ Dean reassures himself, _it's just Cas._ A moment later, the door creaks open. Peeking outside is the face of Hannah, Castiel's handmaiden.

"Yes?"

"I must speak to his highness."

"At this hour?"

"Right away."

"Is it a message from the majesty—"

"Hannah?"

Dean's ears perk up on having heard the faint sound of Castiel's deep, smooth voice, and his eyes flitter across the gaps in the door.

"Who is it at the door?" Castiel asks from a distance, judging by the muffled sound of his voice, and Dean tenses his shoulders to hover over Hannah, who steps back with a glint of fear in her eyes.

"Erm, Sir Dean Winchester, your highness. He says he must speak to you at once."

"Oh? Send him in. And Hannah?" Castiel calls out, "-you are dismissed. Shut the door on your way out."

Although confusion sparkles in Hannah's eyes, Dean feels nothing but excitement and anticipation thrumming under his skin at the prospect of seeing Castiel at last. Hannah nods solemnly, and pulls the door open for Dean to enter. He walks in, still in attention, his posture straight and rigid and his gait sharp. Hannah swallows thickly, before mumbling something along the lines of 'good night, your highness', and shows herself out. The door shuts behind Dean with a firm thud, and at last, Dean's eyes wander over to the front of the chambers.

Obstructed by a long, wide, black sheer curtain, stands a large bed in the far back of the chambers. A few candles lit in the corner of the room are the only source of illumination, and they drench the room in a soft, yellow glow. Lying atop the bed, dressed in nothing but a sky-blue silk robe, is his highness, Prince Castiel. In his hands, he holds a rose, twirling it between his fingers and picking at its crimson petals, dragging his finger down the stem, unbothered by the thorns sitting the green stalk.

"Dean," he says after a pause, his voice low and warm.

"Your highness."

"Explain your arrival. At this hour, when I should be dozing in my silk bed, here I am, speaking to you, who reeks of dirt and leather and somehow, blood."

"My apologies," Dean clears his throat, and takes a hesitant few steps towards his highness' bed, "-but I had to battle an ambush at the northern borders."

"How noble," Castiel yawns, as if somehow put off by Dean's words, "-and what of it? Why are you here?"

At last, the prince lifts his head, and his gaze settles right on _Dean_.

Sharp. Cold. Electrifying.

"Of course, as expected, we emerged victorious. However, the ambush is not what I'm here to speak to you about."

"Then what is it, Dean?"

Dean watches, rooted to the ground, dumbstruck, as Castiel lays back down, bending his knees above the sheets, and spreading his legs apart. Dean's eyes remain fixed onto the sight as he watches Castiel's silk robe fall open and expose his smooth, golden flesh. Flustered, Dean shifts his gaze away, towards some mundane space under the bed, and continues.

"Lately, your highnes—,"

"Dean—" the prince groans, as if in pain, and Dean's eyes dart up at once, towards the prince lying on the bed, "—my foot. I seemed to have pulled a nerve. Could you come closer and check it for me?"

Castiel's eyes widen, a deep, pleading expression withing them— it tugs at something inside Dean's chest, punches the breath out of him and draws him in deeper and deeper— absolutely mesmerising, so without another moment wasted, Dean walks over to towards the sheer curtain, and hesitantly, nudges it open. The sight of Castiel, spread out on the bed— calm yet disheveled, with one hand twirling a rose and the other pressed against his stomach has Dean's guts coiling with arousal, but he reminds himself to remain professional and cold, to not give into his urges and his sinful desires— after all, Castiel is a prince, and do what he may, Dean will always remain a knight.

"Have a seat," Castiel murmurs, not bothering to open his eyes as he slides his foot back and allows Dean space to sit. Dean however, lingers at the edge of the bed for a few seconds, before at last, Castiel's eyes flutter open.

"I think I requested something of you, _Sir Winchester._ "

Dean doesn't hesitate then. He settles down at the edge of the bed as Castiel glances at him from under hooded, dark eyes, and Dean watches— and feels too— as Castiel raises a smooth, tanned foot; soft and pale at the soles, almost holy, and strokes the tip of his toes against Dean's jawbone.

"I'm _very_ hurt, Dean." Castiel breathes out, a soft, lewd smirk lingering at the corner of his lips as he drags his foot down Dean's neck and presses it into Dean's chest.

Dean grins.

Two can play at this game.

Softly, Dean cradles the Prince's foot in his palms, and begins pressing his thumbs into the Prince's ankles to massage them. Their eyes meet. 

"Does that feel good, your highness? Should I stop?"

"No." The prince breathes out softly, and Dean hums to himself. Cautiously, he glides his hand higher over the Prince's leg, watching his highness with a sharp, lewd expression in his eyes.

His hand now dips between the Prince's knees, and Castiel's eyes flutter open to settle upon Dean. The prince whimpers— an obscene, erotic noise at the back of his throat as their gazes lock, and the prince spreads his legs in the slightest. A pretty pink blush spreads across Castiel's face, and Dean finds himself smiling at the sight of that.

"You're beautiful, prince."

"And you're a pervert," Castiel says tenderly, as he spreads his legs open wide, and presses the back of his hand into his mouth to cover his face. Dean's eyes however, remain transfixed to the sight under him. Slowly, he slides his rough, calloused hands up the prince's smooth, young skin, and crawls over the bed until he's hovering above the prince.

"You're gorgeous, Castiel," he says, not bothering to mind his insolence, since in answer, he gets a soft whimper from the prince, who looks away from Dean with crimson-red cheeks, "-and shy too? I thought you wanted this..."

The prince mumbles something, but Dean doesn't bother paying attention as he slides his hand down and wraps it around Castiel's cock. The length is thick, but heated and twitching in his grasp, almost soaked with streams of precome.

"Your cock is beautiful, my liege. So small, and red, and leaking. I can't restrain myself anymore," Dean whispers, to which Castiel moans, almost as high as a young maiden, and Dean is struck once again, by how exquisite the prince is.

"Dean, may I..." The prince starts, sending Dean shy glances from under his coy eyelashes, "-may I see you as well...?"

"I am sworn to obey you, my liege." Dean answers, and strokes a thumb down Castiel's face, hooking it over his plump, juicy bottom lip before dragging it lower. However much his urges encourage him to continue touching Castiel, he supresses his desires in favour of obeying the prince's request, and pushes himself off the prince. His feet touch the ground and he stands up, broad and tall, hovering over the young prince, and slowly, beging to undress himself. The prince's eyes track every small movement of his hand as he reveals his bare chest, stepping out of his tunic, and at last, pushes his trousers down to reveal his cock. It's thick, and curved slightly to the side, and hangs heavy between his legs. Castiel's eyes darken, and he reaches out at once, with a small bit of hesitation, to wrap his fingers around Dean's cock. Curious and wonder-filled eyed gaze up at Dean.

"It's huge. And thick. Does it grow bigger when you're aroused?"

"Does yours?"

"Of course."

"Then mine does too, prince."

"I see," Castiel nods sincerely, and sucks his fat, bottom lip into his mouth as he grazes a fingernail over the tip. Dean winces at the sensitive, feather-light touch, but it draws Castiel's attention to him.

"Does that hurt?"

"No— not at all."

"Shall I continue?"

"Please," Dean breathes out, and almost on instinct, Dean's fingers tangle through the black curls of Castiel's hair. The prince blushes, before leaning forward and swiping his moist, pink tongue over Dean's sensitive tip. A moan slips past Dean's lips unbidden, and he massages his fingers within Castiel's hair while the young, little vixen continues to suck Dean's cock. There's not much technique, and Castiel's mouth is far from skilled, however, it's small and warm and wet, and for someone as easy as Dean, it's all that matters. Not to mention, the mere thought of having his cock sucked by the prince he serves for is an immensely arousing thought in itself.

Sloppy and soaked with spit, Castiel pulls his mouth off Dean's cock, after having bobbed his head and licked his tongue around Dean's cock with much enthusiasm and fervour, and he gazes up at Dean once again, with his bright blue eyes, and Dean feels his resolve crumbling as he cups the side of the prince's face. Castiel leans into the touch and nuzzles his face against him.

Somehow, Dean wants to spoil him. Wants to keep him close, wants to smother him with kisses and drown him in affection.

"Dean?"

"Yes, my liege."

"You haven't orgasmed, yet."

"I see. You did do a quite sorry job of sucking my cock," Dean wonders aloud, as if to himself, enjoying covertly as Castiel's face falls, and a pout graces his lips. He almost seems ready to weep, but Dean would be too cruel if he continued this.

"How about you show me your hole and perhaps you can redeem yourself to me?"

Castiel's bright blue eyes light up at that, and he nods excitedly.

"Yes! Yes, Dean, I want to redeem myself to you," he says, and scrambles across the bed, bending over the headboard, grabbing the mounds of his ass to spread them open, and presenting his sweet, ripe hole to Dean, who wraps his hand around his wet cock and begins jacking himself off at the sight. No matter how hard he wants to grab Castiel by the hips and ram into him, Dean waits and watches.

Castiel's hole is just as exquisite as the rest of his body. Tiny, pink and glistening. It quivers with every breath Castiel takes, and the rim is a gorgeous flesh-coloured ring with a deeper red nestled inside.

"Beautiful. Just beautiful," Dean breathes out, and watches as the prince reaches behind to drag a finger over his hole.

"I've played with it sometimes. And I've thought about you, Sir Winchester. You'd be so—" Castiel breaches the rim, and pushes a single digit inside as he lets out a pained moan, "— so big. I can't control myself, I'm sorry."

The Prince's finger thrusts into his ass, and Dean watches as he plays with himself, feeling the digit around in his hole, curving and crooking his finger, pressing the finger into the walls inside his hole. Arousal courses through Dean's body as he crawls upon the bed and kneels behind his highness, until his cock brushes against the prince's, tight, young chaste hole.

"Do you want this, my liege?"

"More than anything."

"Good," Dean sighs, and drops a kiss between the prince's clothed shoulder blades, "-I will be gentle."

Dean replaces the prince's fingers with his own, and adds in a first finger, to which the prince lets out a deafening whine and presses his face into the soft pillows under him, moaning out a muffled string of Dean's name, as Dean adds a second finger. This time, he focuses more on stretching the tiny hole open, rather than simply pleasuring Castiel, as he pulls the rim apart, crooks his fingers, and brushes his digits against the prince's sweet spot. With every brush against the ridge, Castiel's breath stutters, and Dean relishes in the sound of it as he adds in a third finger to check if Castiel's wet hole can at last swallow him inside.

He drops a small string of spit over the prince's rim, massaging the saliva into his hole as Castiel cries out softly, his hole twitching and clenching around Dean's cock.

"Shall I put it in, my liege?"

"Yes, please—"

"I don't want to hurt you," Dean coos, and drops a soft kiss between the prince's shoulder blades, before at last, reaching down between their bodies and gripping his aching, red cock. He strokes it a few times over, before bringing it up to drag over Castiel's wet taint and rub it over his young, pure hole.

"Be gentle to me, Dean."

"I promise, I will."

With a deep breath, Dean presses the tip into Castiel's hole, watching as it finally breaches the rim, prompting the prince to cry out in pleasure. Inch by inch, Dean pushes it in— no, rather, Castiel's hole swallows him inside, deeper and deeper, until their bodies touch each other's, and at last, Dean is buried inside to the hilt.

Castiel groans, his breathing stuttered and shaky, before he turns his head back and looks into Dean's eyes.

"I'm ready, keep moving."

Dean's self-restraint melts away at the sound of those words, and without another thought, he slides his hands under Castiel's chest, and embraces him from behind, folding his arms over the prince's chest and stomach protectively as Dean kisses the side of Castiel's head, and pants into Castiel's ears. His hips move on their own accord, snapping back and forth, and his senses lose comprehension as he feels the tight, wet heat of Castiel's insides wrap around his cock, constructing his cock and sucking it in.

"C—cas—"

"Y— yes?" Castiel asks, just as breathless as Dean as he reaches up to cradle Dean's face in his palm, turning his head until their faces are inches away.

At last, Castiel dives in and Dean meets him in the middle for a soft, lingering kiss— their first kiss— and what they lack in skill they make up for in passion, lips gliding against each other, sucking and nibbling, moist lips swelling up as their eyes flutter shut, their lips meld together and their bodies connect— over and over again— with deep, fast thrusts.

"D— d— Dean—" his highness, the prince, groans out, his eyebrows knit together in pure ecstacy as he drops his head back, allowing Dean enough expanse of fresh, smooth unblemished skin. Without a single second to consider, Dean sucks in deep, bruising marks into Castiel's skin, branding the prince as his own.

"I'm close—" Dean mutters into Castiel's ears after a long silence, as their bodies rock together and writhe together on the bed in pleasure, and Castiel nods.

"Yes— yes— yes, me too—"

"I'm going to—"

"Inside me. Don't pull out. I need to feel you Dean, please."

Just at the mere thought of Castiel's words, Dean feels the pressure in his gut recoiling and simmering, booming through his gut before ripping through his body, and he comes, thick, hot semen flooding Castiel's tight, virgin hole, as Castiel cries out, and goes almost limp in Dean's arms.

If the wetness near Dean's knees is to be considered, it seems as if Castiel as orgasmed as well.

Untouched.

"Y-you... climaxed... on my cock alone?"

"It was ethereal."

Dean chuckles to himself, before nosing against the nape of Castiel's neck, and maneuvering them down until they're laying side by side in each other's arms, Dean's cock still lodged inside Castiel and Castiel's leg thrown over Dean's thigh. For a moment, Dean does nothing but watch.

Watch as Castiel's eyes shut and his chest slows down, breath finally steadying, heartbeat loud and thumping inside his chest, swollen lips parted absently, and his usually crisp hair now messy and ruffled.

A smile spreads across Dean's face.

But then Castiel opens his eyes, as if having recalled something out of the blue.

"I think you had something to say to me. Before we got ourselves into this... this ordeal."

_Ah. Right._

"Not much..."

A hand travels across Dean's neck and cradles his jaw.

"These marks on my neck, your release inside me, our swollen lips— you have branded me as your own, Dean, and although I know the relationship we share with each other is odd in nature, forbidden too, dare I say, I can't help it anymore. Ever since we were younglings, we've shared everything with each other. For you to hide things from me now, especially after we've become one in the most intimate manner possible, it hurts me."

The sincerity and hurt in Castiel's voice resounds within Dean, and he pulls Castiel close against his chest, wrapping his arms around the younger boy.

"I... Prince, I think I've fallen in love with you."

The prince laughs.

"What a coincidence. It seems I may have fallen in love with you too, Sir Winchester."

**Author's Note:**

> So you have to thank @mishLisha for this one because she has been soooo encouraging and excited about my knight!dean and prince!cas AU and she was so adorable with her pleading that I couldn't resist writing some especially for her. 
> 
> Also, mishLisha, I know this is a day late, but I was too exhausted yesterday from a psychology test, so my apologies. Hope it was worth it tho! 
> 
> Thanks for reading, guys! ✌🥰


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